


But I Remember You

by alt_ernative



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:31:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alt_ernative/pseuds/alt_ernative
Summary: But there’s something about Sal that feels familiar to Ashley, like he’s caught somewhere between her dreams and some far-off memory.(A story about refinding each other in the next life.)
Relationships: Ashley Campbell/Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell/Sal Fisher, Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	But I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by the wonderful @WanderingShaman  
Rating will change as the story progesses. 
> 
> It's been a while since I've written. Please be kind.  
I'm also unsure as to which other tags to use for this fic, as I feel some may give the plot away. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

Ashley’s dreams always started the same, red eyes following her, dangerous, through the drifting snow. The sun was setting, and it was getting cold. She had to hurry. She was running out of time. A flicker of movement caught her eye on the side mirror of her motorbike as she stood and removed her helmet. She shook her head and glanced at the mirror again; suddenly finding herself in a ramshackle wooden cubby halfway up a tree. It was snowing harder now, the low rolling tide of thunder causing her heart to stutter quick in her chest. The ancient radio on the upturned milk crate buzzed and hissed at her in warning; The hair on the back of her neck standing before a flash of lightning…The air pressed heavy and black around her as she pounded her fist against the glass, shaking and desperate. On the other side sat a boy with blue hair – no, a man, smiling resigned and sad at her, she was too late. The shock of electricity against her face as she fell.

Falling.

And jolted awake in her bed.

Ashley fumbled for her phone on the bedside table, quietly fighting off the lingering panic, and huffed at the time on the dimmed display. 2.38am. She knew she wasn’t going to get back to sleep again tonight, not after another one of her nightmares. May as well get an early start to the day.

Kicking off the covers and flicking on her bedside light, Ashley yawned and stood, stretching as she made her way to her bathroom. She reached into the shower cubicle, turning the ancient taps until she had a steady stream of water and stripped out of her pyjamas while she waited for the water to heat, slowly filling the small room with warm steam. Ashley caught her reflection in the mirror, her long messy hair and tired eyes. She’d been looking more and more haggard ever since the nightmares started almost three months ago.

_ ‘Maybe it means something’ _ Ashley thought, _ ‘Maybe I’m being haunted by a ghost...’ _ Ashley snorted at herself. Her of all people, the known paranormal sceptic, jumping at shadows and thinking ghosts were giving her bad dreams. Stepping into the now hot water, sighing as the heat soaked her skin. Ashley took her time scrubbing herself down, idly watching the suds circle the drain as she mulled over her thoughts; _ ‘I wonder who the blue-haired boy is, maybe I should try painting him.’ _she wondered as she rinsed out her hair. Ashley shut off the water, stepping out to grab one of the towels for her body and another to twist her wet hair out of the way whilst she dressed. She pulled on the black jeans she’d set out earlier, along with a soft well-worn sweater and her boots. After pulling her hair back and setting an alarm on her phone so she doesn’t miss class, Ashley got to work on the blank canvas set up on the easel in the corner of her room.

⭐

Three hours later, at the quiet buzzing of her phone, Ashley set her paintbrush down to admire her work. It was the boy from her nightmares, staring out from behind a cracked and broken mask, surrounded by lightning and glowing red eyes. She looked up at the quiet knock on her bedroom door, turning as her father came in with a mug of hot coffee in hand.

“Another nightmare sweets?” 

Her father sets down the mug on her desk, brushing his fingers against a framed photo of her mother by her monitor. Her dad looked tired, but content. The death of Ashley’s mother had been hardest on him, and ever since she passed away three years ago from cancer, he’d been more subdued. But what hurt most was that his eyes always seemed sadder when he looked at her. He’d always said that she took after her mother.

“Yeah,” she replied, reaching for her coffee and cradling the warm mug in her hands, “but this one was different this time.”

“Different how?” he asked.

“There was electricity this time that shocked me, and I fell and that’s when I woke up.”

Her father stepped closer to contemplate the canvas past her shoulder, while Ashley sipped her coffee. “It looks pretty spooky to me Ash.” He looked at her over the rim of his glasses, “How much sleep did you end up getting this time?”

“Honestly? Not a lot” Ashley shrugged, pausing to take another sip, “Maybe a couple of hours tops? I’ll be okay for class though Dad, I promise.”

Her father hummed at her in reply and stepped back from the canvas, looking sheepish. “Speaking of classes sweets, I’m going to need you to drop Ben at school again. I’ve got an early meeting that I can’t afford to miss.”

Ashley drained her mug and set it back on her desk, “Sure, you go, I’ll wake the squirt up in a minute.”

“That’s my girl.” sounding relieved, her father dropped a kiss on her forehead and headed towards the door, leaving Ashley to pack up and officially get her day started. “Drive safe, be good. And I’ll see you when you get home.

⭐

Later, around midday after her painting workshop, Ashley finally caved to her exhaustion and decided to go to her favourite coffee stop on the university's campus. It’s the flash of colour that initially catches her eye as she headed towards the store; a shorter man with blue hair stood with his back to her. He was talking to another man, a ginger, the both of them leaning against the outside wall. Ashley paused , frowning at the shiver of familiarity then shook it off, heading inside to the warmth of the cafe. _ ‘Must be déjà vu’ _ , she thought as she waited in line for her order, ‘ _ Well it’s either that, Ash, or you’re more tired than you thought, to think that guy is the same person you’ve been dreaming of.’ _

It’s autumn here, and the cafe was bustling with people. Ashley collected her drink and decided to head back to her on-campus studio to paint. It’s cold as she leaves, noticing that the men from before are still outside, in the thick of their conversation. Now that he’s facing her, Ashley could see that the shorter man's hair was a duller blue, obviously dyed, with bits of his natural blonde colouring showing through at the roots. But what was probably the most striking thing about him was the jagged port-of-wine stain – a birthmark - covering the right side of his face. She caught his eye as she went to pass them and as he frowned at her, Ashley looks away - blushing red at being caught staring.

But before she can walk by the blue haired man interrupted his friend and waved her down, “I’m sorry to stop you like this, but have we met before?”

“N-no? I mean, I don’t think so?” Ashley stuttered, caught off guard by his question. She was fully expecting to be yelled at for her staring.

“Look I know this sounds weird as hell, but I know you, and I’m probably coming across as a total creep right now, but here’s my number.” As the man spoke , he held folded scrap of paper out to her. Ashley frowned at the paper, clutching at her coffee, then looking up to his face, searching his expression for any hint of malice.

“Please, Ashley, I need you to trust me.” He said it with such a soft vulnerability that it made Ashley reconsider, glancing again at the slip of paper. “We’ve met each other before. I know it.”

The redhead beside him laughed awkwardly, clearly out of sorts with his friend’s quiet intensity. “I’m sorry for my friend, Sal, here. He’s a bit of a stickler for the conspiracy theories and strange coincidences, aren’t you Sally boy?” the redhead chuckled, nudging Sal’s shoulder with his own, as he turned to face Ashley.

“What? Oh yeah.” An awkward smile from Sal as he shuffled his feet.

“I’m Todd by the way” says the redhead - Todd - holding out his hand for her to shake. Ashley takes it with a polite half smile, still focused on the slip of paper in Sal’s hand. 

But there’s something about Sal that feels familiar to Ashley, like he’s caught somewhere between her dreams and a far-off memory. Trusting her instinct, Ashley took the slip of paper from between his fingers and almost lost it to the wind when an arc of electricity leapt from Sal’s hand to her own.

“_ Ow, _ fuck, sorry!” Ashley shook her hand and frowns, “That’s weird, I must have picked up some static electricity somewhere.”

“Don’t worry about it” Sal replies, shaking his own hand absent-mindedly, “It happens”.

“Well...uh, I should get going then?” Ashley places the paper in the pocket of her jacket and half turns away from them to leave. “Um, it was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” Todd replies, giving her a small wave. Sal still lost in thought beside him. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

⭐

But it’s not until later, when she gets to her studio, that Ashley realised that she had never given the blue haired man - Sal - her name.


End file.
